As the dim twilight shrouds
The mountain's purple crest,
And Summer's white and folded clouds
Are glowing in the west,
Loud shouts come up the rocky dell,
And voices hail the evening-bell.
Faint is the goatherd's song,
And sighing comes the breeze;
The silent river sweeps along
Amid its bending trees -
And the full moon shines faintly there,
And music fills the evening air.
Beneath the waving firs
The tinkling cymbals sound;
And as the wind the foliage stirs,
I see the dancers bound
Where the green branches, arched above,
Bend over this fair scene of love.
And he is there, that sought
My young heart long ago!
But he has left me - though I thought
He ne'er could leave me so.
Ah! lover's vows - how frail are they!
And his - were made but yesterday.
Why comes he not? I call
In tears upon him yet;
'Twere better ne'er to love at all,
Than love, and then forget!
Why comes he not? Alas! I should
Reclaim him still, if weeping could.
But see - he leaves the glade,
And beckons me away:
He comes to seek his mountain maid!
I cannot chide his stay.
Glad sounds along the valley swell,
And voices hail the evening-bell.
It is beautiful. We have a pattern of 3,3,4,3 4,4 feet per stanza following the Iambic meter. Longfellow uses a particular vocabulary and syntax that fits well in the few syllables per line, making the poem full and philosophical. The poet visions his own younger self, feels his own heart when young and seeks his maid. I shall offer it a 10!
The silent river sweeps along Amid its bending trees - And the full moon shines faintly there, And music fills the evening air. Beautiful description. Thanks for the sharing.
The first two stanzas are beautifully worded. 'And sighing comes the breeze'....
O mountain maid look I am the echo reverberation of your love love of your living and immortal soul just for your little loving sight here I’ve come, come for your loving staring nothing else nothing is into me just an echo for your darkness hair, beautiful blue eyes, nose, lips, thin, well shaped breast, finger, fascinated waist, dreamy toe and full body -that is love and love you without....
This image filled write is an example for all aspiring poets. To my favourites it goes.
Longfellow certainly knew how to place his reader in the middle of the scene and let nothing come between the reader and the unfolding event. The nature descriptives drew me in and the story line intrigued me. He was certainly a giant with a pen in his hand.
nature, appreciation, expressions, sense of love.......... a very fine poem. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
......beautiful imagery with lovely music...enjoyed..